


Untitled

by AsteroidMiyoko



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Desperate Interfacing, M/M, Romantic Fluff, consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-20 22:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsteroidMiyoko/pseuds/AsteroidMiyoko
Summary: They've all got their rituals when they're going to be apart for a while, but Tailgate is fortunate enough to walk in on Cyclonus and Whirl saying their goodbyes.
Relationships: Cyclonus/Tailgate/Whirl
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> I just love them so much omg...
> 
> If you like totally sappy conjunx interfacing, this is for you, fam.

Tailgate wasn't surprised when he returned home to find the lights in the house dimmed and the rooms quiet except for the sound of strained engines in the berth room.

Whirl was due to leave in a couple of cycles, temporarily, but for longer than they liked to think about. He'd be light years away, helping Drift and some of the others from the Lost Light set up a multi-species hospital named after their lost CMO. Some of the talking heads had wondered why it wasn't being set up on New Cybertron, the "right way to honor such a hero," to which Drift simply shook his helm and said that they would never understand.

It would be several lunar cycles at least before Whirl would touch down back at home. And doubtless he and Cyclonus were spending some time together while they still had the opportunity.

It had been the same when he himself left the year before to help with a cyberforming project on a remote moon, knowing he would be gone for at least two lunar cycles but maybe more. Cyclonus and Whirl had each come to him to say goodbye in their own ways; Cyclonus laying him out on the berth and kissing him until he shook, and Whirl curling over him and demanding that he leave marks on the copter's frame. _"Make it somewhere I can see 'em, Legs, or there's no point."_

So no, Tailgate wasn't surprised.

Without a sound he peeked around the doorframe, not to interrupt or join in, but just because he knew that they were beautiful together and it wasn't too often he got to watch them, though they'd made it clear he was welcome in all capacities. Tomorrow, no doubt, it would be the three of them curled up on that berth, armor pinging, vents struggling to cool their heated frames as they ignored the clock on the wall.

But for now…

Meshes lay forgotten on the floor as Whirl crawled over Cyclonus, who reclined on the berth, frame spread in invitation. The copter's spike was fully extended and already glinting with what was most likely Cyclonus' oral lubricant as he lined up between the jet's legs.

Normally, Whirl liked to see his spike disappear inside his partner, but this time he kept his optic only on Cyclonus' face, watching the minute changes of his expression as they came together inch by inch. He followed him as Cyclonus arched his helm back, the tell-tale sign that Whirl had reached his ceiling node and was pressing against it.

"Look at me, Cyc." Whirl insisted, sliding his claw underneath Cyclonus' helm to tilt him back towards him. "Come on-"

With an unsteady vent, Cyclonus relaxed and complied, optics back on Whirl and servos gripping his arms tight. They lay there, unmoving, for a long moment.

Finally Whirl lifted his hips… and thrust, shallowly at first and then with longer strokes. Every deep inward motion had Cyclonus gasping, his leg coming up to wrap behind Whirl's aft and pull him closer. Their engines roared and sputtered, heated air filling the room from their open vents.

And all the while, their gazes never left each other.

It was clear he was close from the way he writhed against the berth, but with effort, Cyclonus lifted a servo to rest on Whirl's cockpit. "Please," he whispered, the first thing he'd said since Tailgate started watching them.

Whirl stilled almost completely except for the slowing spin of his rotors.

"Okay, okay."

A series of mechanical clicks signaled a minor transformation sequence; Whirl's cockpit folded away to be closer to his frame, something he didn't do very often because said he didn't like to feel so vulnerable, so unarmed. As soon as it was complete, Cyclonus wrapped his arms around Whirl's shoulders, pulling him close and burying his face in the copter's neck.

"Shit, Cyc, frag-" and Whirl's voice was a choked sound as he crowded Cyclonus against the berth.

This time the motion was a rocking one, a deep grinding that left no space at all between their frames. Both of Cyclonus' legs had made their way around Whirl, hooked at the ankles to prevent them from shaking. Whirl reached a claw up to pull Cyclonus' servos off of his shoulders and pin them to the berth by his helm, to which the jet responded with a desperate whine.

"I've got you-"

"Ahh- and I've got you-"

When they overloaded it was almost at the same time, visible charge arching between them as a strangled version of Whirl's name left Cyclonus' vocoder and Whirl released deep inside with a staticy shout.

Long moments later they unsteadily rearranged themselves on the berth; sitting back against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder, servos and claws clasped tightly together. Cyclonus mouthed something against the side of Whirl's helm that made the copter curl further into Cyclonus frame with a watery laugh.

Tailgate couldn't hear it clearly, but he had a pretty good idea what it was.


End file.
